


Canvas

by Ace_Valentin_21



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Body Paint, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Oneshot, Painting, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers is a Good Artist, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_Valentin_21/pseuds/Ace_Valentin_21
Summary: Tony knows how important art is to Steve. Steve makes Tony his art.





	Canvas

It all started when he gifted Steve a 250-colour paint set, ranging from acrylics to watercolours and complete with a full set of brushes, for Christmas. He knew Steve loved to sketch and had a real talent for it, so he figured the other man might like an upgrade. Steve was overjoyed in his own quiet way, his eyes positively shining and hands never stopping on one thing for long. When he’d looked up at Tony and softly, earnestly, thanked him, he knew he’d made the right choice.

Anything to see him light up like that.

A few weeks later,  
Tony could tell that Steve was growing bored of canvas. Tissue paper, fabric, concrete - anything that didn’t move was an easel. Personally, Tony found it endearing, the swirls of colour covering every surface, beautiful landscapes and incredibly lifelike portraits everywhere you looked. On the other hand, there were only so many surfaces Steve could paint on before he - and the rest of the team - ran out of clear space. So, after a long conversation, they decided on a solution.

Steve would paint Tony. 

The Captain had done multiple paintings of Tony, but nothing quite like what he is doing now. After a long day of hero duties, Steve collapses onto Tony’s couch. Tony would roll up his sleeves, sit down in front of Steve and let him get to work. During S.H.I.E.L.D. meetings and long-winded debriefs, Tony would watch the other man draw elaborate patterns on the back of his hand, the cold nib of the pen marking dark lines on his skin. Sometimes, after Steve had arrived at his door in the middle of the night, hollow-eyed and drenched in sweat, Tony lets his shirt slip off his shoulders and leaves his legs bare, and Steve would spend the rest of the night painstakingly etching a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes onto his body, using every inch of tanned skin to create a masterpiece out of Tony’s whole being, like this was his purpose all along - to be a blank slate, a canvas, a receptacle for all the care and attention Steve puts into his art. Tony is his art. 

It becomes therapeutic for Tony, too. When Steve comes to pull him away from his latest project, saying he needs to eat, to sleep, Tony obliges, because when he lies down on Steve’s bed and lets him unbutton his shirt, when he stretches himself out and feels the chill of the paint across is torso, when he drifts off to a dreamless sleep as Steve draws a flower around the arc reactor in red and gold, it’s all worth it.

Their teammates notice, of course. Even if they weren’t a motley assortment of spies, scientists and gods, the paint creeping past Tony’s cuffs and collar is hard to miss. Aside from a few appreciative comments and snide remarks in the first few days, though, they don’t mention it - not even when Steve draws intricate, lacy swirls across Tony’s cheekbones during movie night; not a peep from any of them when, after a lengthy board meeting, Tony collapses onto Steve’s lap, pulls up his shirt, and maintains a calm conversation with Bruce as Steve gets to work on his stomach; they say nothing, not one word, even as Steve traces green geometry across Tony’s lips.

And definitely nothing after the pair come back from sparring, both with smudged green lips.


End file.
